


But She Knows How I Feel About Him

by devoosha



Category: Hey Arnold!
Genre: F/M, Getting Together, High School, Some angst, arnold returns, fluff too, non canon now that the jungle movie is out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 09:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14668257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devoosha/pseuds/devoosha
Summary: Helga sees Phoebe and Arnold getting close and assumes the worst. Rated T for some mild language and an F-bomb.  This is told from Helga's POV.  Check out my other story, "But I Just Can't Let that Go" for Arnold's POV.This was posted on FFnet before the Jungle Movie came out.  I moved it here as part of the migration to AO3 :)





	But She Knows How I Feel About Him

Helga G. Pataki, thank you very much, slammed her locker shut and twirled the combination lock before shouldering her backpack.  She was in a bad mood, having just been given an assignment in her honors English class that did not interest her in the least, but would, she knew, keep her busy for the majority of the week. 

“What is wrong, Helga?” the high pitched voice of her best friend sounded next to her and she turned her eyes to the shorter girl.

“Oh Knight just gave us an assignment-read and analyze a book-due next week” she answered, rolling her eyes.  “He assigned a different book to each of us.”

“That does not sound too awful,” Phoebe said as the two girls walked toward the door of their high school to head home.  “You love to read.”

“I love to read what I like to read.  I wish he’d have let us pick our own.”

“What did he assign you?”

“I got _Emma_.  I’ve read it before, so that’s not the problem.  I just would rather have had…oh I don’t know.  If it had to be Austen, I like _Sense and Sensibility_ more.  Emma annoys me.  She sticks her nose in everyone’s business and that irritates me.”

Phoebe giggled, tossing her long black hair back over her shoulder.  “At least you have read the book, that is probably a step ahead of most of your classmates.”

“True,” Helga said, pushing open the front doors and squinting at the bright October afternoon sun.  She felt calmer – Phoebe generally had that effect on her.  Besides, her temper flare-ups were usually short lived now anyways.  Flame up and die down, ever since San Lorenzo.

Speaking of, Helga became aware of the young blond man walking ahead of them with his own best friend.  Who was she kidding?  She was always aware of where he was.  He had only returned from Costa Rica this summer and school had only been in session for almost a month, but she’d memorized his schedule and knew exactly when and where he’d be at any point in the day.  This allowed her to walk by him or behind him, just so she could feel that flutter in her heart and breathless longing that had been part and parcel of her life for 13 years.  Of course, she would duck away or turn away if she happened to catch his eye.

Arnold and Gerald were laughing about something, but they were far enough ahead of the girls that Helga could only faintly hear them.  She sighed.  She and Arnold had barely spoken to each other since he’d been back, after his four-year absence.  Helga had hoped, when she heard that he had returned, that he wouldn’t have forgotten about her – or that little kiss he gave her in the jungle – but it appeared he had.  She thought that it must have been a ‘heat of the moment’ thing, as they had agreed the FTi kiss had been.  Helga knew that FTi was not, but Arnold thought so.  Things in the jungle had gotten crazy.  Their lives were in danger and she had just saved his life.  That kiss was just gratitude, she guessed, interrupted by Gerald and never spoken of again. 

Phoebe’s voice penetrated her thoughts and she realized Phoebe had been talking to her for a few minutes.  Thankfully, her friend was just telling her about her Chemistry test, so Helga turned her attention to listening for the rest of the walk home.

 

* * *

 

On Friday, Helga was glad to get out of her Calculus class.  Though she did well in it, she never liked math classes and today’s lesson made her brain feel bruised.  _‘At least it’s lunch time,’_  she thought, grabbing the brown bag out of her locker containing the meal she had packed for herself.  She almost always ate with Phoebe up in the third floor cafeteria of their high school, except on Wednesdays when both she and Phoebe volunteered to tutor other students. 

When she got to the cafeteria she first waited in line to buy a bottle of iced tea, letting the chaotic noise of the cafeteria roll over her.  Generally, she disliked crowds, but there was something about the noise level always present here that she enjoyed.  She turned, pocketing the change handed back to her at the register, and looked over to the table she and Phoebe usually used to see if Phoebe was there.

And she froze.

And she felt her heart stop.

Arnold was there at the table, but that’s not what made her freeze.  He was sitting very close to Phoebe, leaning towards the black haired girl.  He was saying something to her, which was making Phoebe giggle.

Someone bumped into Helga and apologized.  It was Sid, from elementary school days, and he ducked away quickly when he noticed it was her.  She didn’t even react, other than taking a few steps to the side, still staring at Phoebe and Arnold.

_‘Phoebe and Arnold?’_ she thought.  _‘But Phoebe knows how I feel about him._ ’

Arnold was smiling at Phoebe, then he looked down shyly.  Phoebe then touched him briefly on his arm and he looked up into her eyes again, their heads so close together.  He just looked so happy.  So did Phoebe.

Helga turned away and stumbled toward the cafeteria entrance.  Going against the tide of students coming up the stairs, she struggled down to the second floor and blindly walked down the hall until she spotted an empty classroom.  She didn’t even know which classroom it was, but she slumped down into a desk and stared at the room unseeing.

She had always known that something happening between her and Arnold was a long shot.  Helga had been too mean to him for too long growing up.  How could that be a basis for a loving relationship?  She had also known that the day would come when her heart would break – when Arnold would get himself a girlfriend and Helga would know that there was absolutely no way he would ever like her.  Arnold being in San Lorenzo for so long was enough of a heartache, but she had dreaded this day more than anything.  To have it come to her unexpectedly like this, and with her best friend?  It was too much and she felt the sharp sting of tears.  She sat there in the empty classroom letting them fall.

 

* * *

 

She moved woodenly through the rest of her classes that day.  Her teachers found her a dull student, which was a surprising contrast to the often lively and intelligent Helga they had come to expect.  A girl who eagerly participated in the class discussions, answered and asked a lot of questions, and injected life into the honors classes of her second half of the day. 

Not today.  She sat listlessly in her classes and would not have been able to tell anyone what was discussed that day.  She couldn’t get the picture of Arnold and Phoebe out of her head.

When the final bell rang, she headed toward her locker to put her books away and get what she needed for the weekend.  When Helga turned the corner of the hall where her locker was, she was surprised to see Arnold near it – a few lockers down actually and closer to Phoebe’s, looking at the lockers with a frustrated expression. 

_‘I really don’t want to see this,’_ she thought.  She reached her locker and quickly spun the combination; and just as quickly and silently as possible gathered what she needed into her backpack.  She kept the door open in such a way that she hoped would shield her from his notice and she wouldn’t have to see Arnold or Phoebe once Phoebe arrived.

“Oh, hey Helga.”

She tensed and leaned back to peek around her locker door.  Arnold had moved over next to her locker.  He stood there awkwardly, his left hand behind his back.

“Hey Arnold,” she managed to mutter, looking back into her locker.  He always turned her mind into mush.

“We haven’t really gotten a chance to catch up,” he mentioned.

Helga frowned, stuffing her Calc book into her bag and zipping it shut.  “No we haven’t.”  She winced inside at how harsh she sounded.  Then again, she reminded herself as that image of Phoebe and Arnold popped back into her head, she had good reason.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said, reaching up his right hand to rub the back of his neck.

Helga’s mind was in overdrive.  She needed to get away from this.  Needed to get away before Phoebe arrived.  She could not face Phoebe right now and definitely could not watch the two of them again.  She also did not want Arnold to see how much she hurt. 

“No biggie,” she replied, slamming the door of her locker and turning away.  “Catch you later,” she tossed lightly at him over her shoulder.

“Helga wait!” he exclaimed.

“I have to go!” she growled at him and stalked off, leaving him standing there.

 

* * *

 

 

Helga’s cell phone rang again.  Her parents had caved this past summer and had finally gotten her one from Bob’s store.  It was a reward for an excellent year at school where Helga was second in her grade only after Phoebe.  They had agreed that their daughter deserved it, and as she basically only used the phone to talk to Phoebe, they considered it harmless.

Helga, who was sitting at her desk working on her Calc homework, childishly pressed her hands against her ears, her elbows on the desk.  “Stop calling me Phoebe!” she yelled at the ringing phone.

After five rings, it went to voicemail.

When the notification popped up that a voicemail had been left, she listened to it on speaker.  _“Helga?  Please pick up!  I need to tell you something.  Something wonderful!  Please call me back!”_    After listening, Helga grabbed her phone, put it on silent and tossed it on her bed.  “There!  I don’t want to talk to you.  I don’t want to hear about your little romance you little traitor!” she growled.  “All this talk about how wonderful you think Gerald is and one smile from Arnold gets you hook, line and sinker!”

She slumped down in her chair and yanked her Calc book towards her.  The figures on the page blurred as tears came again.  “Dammit!” she yelled, wiping roughly at her eyes.  “This needs to stop!”  She shoved her book away again and sat back in her seat, arms automatically going across her chest.

That’s when she felt it, the hard shape under her shirt.  Cringing, she withdrew the small, heart-shaped locket that had replaced the one from her childhood.  She turned it and fingered the catch in order for it to pop open. 

The picture in it was not updated.  It was the same one from their fifth grade year, cut out of the sheet of pictures of the entire class.  Helga couldn’t help but smile at the picture – Arnold with his half-grin, his damn blue hat, that unruly and tufted blond hair that seemed to defy gravity.  She had no picture of him that was recent, but he hadn’t really changed all that much.  Minus the blue hat, of course.  She knew he wore it because his parents had given it to him.  Arnold had told her that in the jungle that one night by the fire.

She looked up as her thoughts turned to that night.  It was just before they found his parents.  The pair had been separated from their class and Helga had rescued him, at great risk to herself, from the river he had fallen into.  Then she had somehow built a fire and had even used her hair ribbon to bandage a cut on his arm.  Arnold had, of course, profusely thanked her – all of which she shrugged off, trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal, but Arnold wasn’t that kind of person – to act like everything she did for him didn’t mean anything.

They had ended up talking by that fire, sitting close as the night closed in around them.  Helga was frightened and trying to put on a brave front, but inside she was a mess.  Arnold kept talking to her, though she said little back to him, just stared wide-eyed at him.  That was when he told her why his hat meant so much to him and her heart ached even more.  She had thought that Arnold didn’t deserve this.  He deserved so much more – his parents back and, she had to admit bitterly to herself, the love a girl much more worthy than her.  Arnold didn’t deserve a girl who was as brittle and mean and spiteful as Helga was.  A girl who had treated him from almost day one in the worst possible way a girl could. 

These thoughts whirled through her brain as he talked, and though her face didn’t show it, she sat there close to him in self-loathing, arms wrapped around her knees as she listened.  Arnold finally fell silent and he turned to the fire and watched it for a few minutes. 

She, too, turned her head to watch the small fire dancing inches from her toes.  The warmth of it on her face felt good, in the surprisingly cool night air of the jungle.  The flames were putting her into a half-trance until his soft voice broke into her stupor.

“Thank you again, Helga.  For everything.”

She turned her head to look at him.  “You don’t have to thank me…” but then trailed off.  She was disconcerted at the intense gaze he had focused on her.

They stared at each other for a few moments, then Arnold scooched closer to her.  “Yes I do,” he said quietly, leaning towards her and closing his eyes.

When his lips touched hers, her mind exploded.  What was happening?  Arnold was kissing her?  She had no idea what to do or how to react.  This was her dreams all coming true and it was completely unexpected.  His kiss was sweet and gentle, nothing like the intensely passionate kiss she had given him at FTi.  He kissed her tentatively too, as if he wasn’t sure how she would take it, or he didn’t really know how, or both.  Her heart raced, even as her own eyes closed, and she kissed him back. 

Then it was over.  Gerald’s shout made them both jerk away from each other.  Gerald was yelling their names, then yelling to their other classmates that he could see a fire.  Helga and Arnold scooted apart and were found by their relieved best friends, who pushed through the trees lining the edge of the river where they had built their fire.  Phoebe and Gerald threw themselves at Helga and Arnold, who had jumped to their feet, hugging their friends closely, while Arnold and Helga looked at each other over their friends’ shoulders.  Moments later the rest of their class and their teacher appeared.

Bringing her focus back onto her desk and her tossed-aside Calculus book, Helga thought bitterly about that kiss.  It hadn’t happened again.  Nothing had happened after that.  At least in regards to the two of them.  It was as if that moment were a catalyst and things just ran fast after it.  They had been reunited with their class, his parents were found, the bad guy was caught, and Arnold decided to stay.

Helga closed her eyes.  That had hurt.  That kiss had obviously meant nothing to him, though it had meant the world to her.  She had spent two days with her head in the clouds thinking that finally, finally the love of her life liked her back.  She didn’t ever remember feeling that happy.  Then, of course, it all came crashing down.  Reality reared its’ ugly head and she realized that yes, she and Arnold were never meant to be.  He stayed, she went home.  End of story.

There had been an occasional letter from him.  Plain and mundane letters filled with his adventures down in Central America.  Helping his parents, attending school, making new friends.  Arnold never referred to the kiss, though.  She never wrote him back.

Helga reached down to the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled it open.  Tied with a pink ribbon were the letters, sitting there innocently.  The envelopes were worn, as she knew the paper inside each envelope was.  She had slept with them under her pillow when they arrived.  She had kissed them over and over, knowing that his hands had touched the paper.  She had held them close to her heart, ignoring the fact that they said nothing about his feelings (if any) for her.  It was enough that he had spared a few moments of thought for her.  Took a moment out of his day to send a few pages.

She stared down into the drawer, reaching up behind her head to finger the similar pink ribbon that was tied around her ponytail.  Helga still wore a pink ribbon in her hair, in spite of Rhonda constantly telling her how uncool it was.  She didn’t wear it in the big bow anymore, rather she tied it around the base of a ponytail, letting the ribbon ends trail down her back, mixing in with her long blond hair.  Sometimes she wove it into her hair in a braid.  Sometimes it acted as a headband.  In some way, shape, or form, it crowned her hair – acting as a token of her beloved.  Like his hat, she realized.  She wore it as a way to remember Arnold because he had once told her he liked it.

Helga’s fingers then found their way to the locket, now hanging outside of her shirt.  She toyed with it as she stared at the letter bundle and thought about that kiss.  Then, unbidden, that image of Phoebe and Arnold leaning so close toward each other in the cafeteria came back into her head.  Her fingers clutched at her locket and without even realizing she did it, angrily yanked it, breaking the chain.  Startled, she stared down at her clenched fist, the chains from the locket hanging limply over her hand.  With a cry, she threw it into the bottom desk drawer on top of the letters.  She then reached back to pull that damned pink ribbon from her hair and it soon joined the locket and the letters before she slammed the drawer shut.

 

* * *

 

“Helga!  Helga!”

She groaned, turning over in bed.  What the hell was Miriam doing yelling her name this early in the morning?  She opened one eye to look at the clock and was slightly surprised that it was almost eleven.  _‘Criminy!’_ she thought, sitting up and rubbing at her face.  Her eyes were extra crusty this morning from all the tears and she realized she must have exhausted herself from all the crying.

“Helga wake up!”

“Cheese and crackers, Miriam!” she yelled.  “What!?”

“Phoebe’s here Helga,” her mother’s voice called through the door.

Helga froze _.  ‘What?  Can’t the girl get a freaking clue?  If I’m not answering the phone, it means I DON’T want to talk to you!_ ’

When she didn’t answer, Miriam risked opening the door to peek in.  “Helga?  Did you hear me?  Phoebe is here.”

Helga turned to look at her mother and couldn’t help but be amused at the widening of Miriam’s eyes.  Helga knew she must look like a wreck.  Her eyes must have shown that she had cried all night.

“Helga what’s wrong?”

“Nothing Miriam,” Helga said in an irritated voice.  “Tell Phoebe I’m not here.”

“Not here, Helga?  Why?”

“I don’t want to talk to her.”

“But Helga…”

“NO Miriam!” Helga snapped, cutting her mother off.  Then she sighed, reaching up to rub at her tired eyes.  “I can’t talk to her now, Miriam.  Make something up.  Tell her I’m out or that I left town.  I don’t care.  Phoebe is about the last person I want to see now.”

Her mother hesitated, then crossed the room to touch Helga on the shoulder.  “Honey, is everything ok?”

Helga tensed at first, then relaxed.  She knew her mother was just trying.  “No it’s not Mom, and I can’t explain why right now.  Maybe later.  Just please, make up some excuse to Phoebe and make her go away.”  She winced at how pleading and sad her voice sounded.

“O…K…Helga,” her mother replied slowly, clearly not understanding why Helga was acting this way.  “I’ll tell her something.”

“Thanks Mom,” she said with a weak smile.

Miriam silently left the room and Helga jumped out of bed to tiptoe after her to make sure she did get rid of Phoebe.  She paused at the top of the stairs and heard her mother telling Phoebe that ‘sorry…she had forgotten that Helga had left the house earlier and hadn’t said where she was going’.  Phoebe obviously didn’t believe Miriam and questioned her, though Helga couldn’t hear what Phoebe said.  Her mother, however, did assure Phoebe that Helga wasn’t home and suggested a couple of places where her daughter might have gone where Phoebe could look for her.

Once the door was shut, Helga breathed a sigh of relief, before turning around to head into the bathroom and the shower.

 

 

* * *

 

 

By mid-afternoon, Helga had finished her Calculus homework and had written the last of her paper on _Emma_.  She had sternly told her brain to NOT think about all her problems.  She may not have romance or love in her life, but she could at least concentrate on school.  Maybe, she thought bitterly, Phoebe would be so wrapped up in her new relationship that her grades would fail and Helga could become top student.  Having that thought made Helga feel sick to her stomach out of disloyalty to the best friend that she still loved.

With her work done, she felt restless, and she paced around her room like a caged tiger.  She itched to call Phoebe, but she knew right now she didn’t have the courage to hear what she knew she would hear.  Helga had to build herself up to that, and that would take a while.  She wanted to go out; walk the streets and let the noise and craziness of the city sooth her troubled mind.  Helga was afraid to go out though, afraid to bump into Phoebe.  Or, worse yet, Phoebe and Arnold together. 

_‘I can’t stay in here all day.  I’ll go insane,’_ she thought, shoving her feet into her sneakers.  _‘I’ll take my chances.  If I see Phoebe or Arnold, I’ll just run away and hide.  But I need to get out of here.  If I stay here one more minute I’m going to end up crying all evening.’_

She hesitated at her door, her hand going up to her bare throat.  Helga looked back at her desk, at the lower drawer where she had hidden her locket and ribbon.  She felt naked without them.  Hardly a day had gone by in 13 years where she hadn’t worn a pink hair ribbon.  Hardly a day had gone by in 13 years where she didn’t have Arnold’s picture close to her heart – first pasted to a construction paper heart, then in a heart frame, then in a big locket, and now in the dainty locket tossed angrily into her desk drawer.  Tears stung her eyes and she turned away, yanking open her door so that she could hurry out.

She yelled to Miriam that she was going out and would be back later.  Helga was out the door and blindly running down the street before her mother could even respond.

 

 

 

* * *

  

Helga wandered for an hour in the streets of the neighborhood with no destination in mind.  She barely saw anything around her.  She kept her head down, her hands buried deep in her jacket pockets save for when she had to reach up and brush her hair out of her eyes in irritation.  She had left it down, which she rarely did.  It was long, waist-length, and was generally a pain to deal with, which was why she always had it pulled back.  She didn’t notice until she had gone outside into the brisk October wind that it was loose.

Mr. Green was out on his sidewalk, sweeping away leaves, when she walked by his shop.  The older man smiled at her with a greeting.  It broke her out of her thoughts and she focused on him, returning his smile. 

“Everything ok, Miss Helga?” he asked.

“Ok enough,” she replied.  Helga often came here to pick things up for her mother.

“Good good.  You know your little friend Phoebe was here just a few minutes ago.  Asked if I had seen you.  Too bad you just missed her.”

“Yeah…” she said slowly.  “Too bad.”

Mr. Green pointed toward the end of the block.  “She went that way.  If you hurry, you just might catch her.”

Helga looked down the street in the direction he pointed.  “Thanks Mr. Green,” she said automatically.  Helga’s mind worked quickly in the next couple of seconds.  She didn’t want to head in the same direction she knew Phoebe had headed, but she also didn’t want Mr. Green to think she was a nutcase.  Everyone knew Helga and Phoebe were best friends, so deliberately going in the opposite direction would look crazy.  She smiled at him again and headed down the sidewalk where he had pointed.

She reached the corner and peered around the building, then looked in the other direction.  No Phoebe.  Helga breathed a sigh of relief, and turned her head enough to see that Mr. Green must have gone back into his store.  Looking up and down the streets again, she crossed to the other side and kept heading down the next block. 

_‘If I spot Phoebe, then I’ll know where she is,’_ Helga reasoned to herself.  _‘That will make it easier to avoid her.’_

Helga reached the end of that block and carefully eased her head around the building, and just as immediately drew back, pressing her back against the building wall.  Phoebe was around the corner on the opposite side of the street about half-way down the block.  In the quick glance Helga had, Phoebe was standing with her hands on her hips, but was, thankfully, looking in the other direction.  _‘Ok…there she is.  Just head back down this block and go the other way.’_

Before she could push herself away, though, she heard an all-too-familiar voice yell Phoebe’s name.

Arnold.

Her heart stopped as her eyes closed.  _‘No no no this wasn’t happening,’_ she thought.  It was, though.  The one thing she dreaded.  Seeing Phoebe and Arnold together again.  _‘Just walk away Helga_.’  Yet something drew her to the corner of the building again.  She just HAD to see, as much as she didn’t want to.

She peeked around the corner again, carefully.  Helga definitely didn’t want to be spotted.  What she saw, though, instantly made her regret her choice to look.  Arnold was running across the street toward Phoebe, who was smiling at him. 

Helga was relieved that they didn’t hug or kiss or anything like that.  Arnold touched her arm as Phoebe shook her head.  Phoebe’s expression was a little worried at that point and Helga ducked back again before Phoebe could look over in her direction. 

_‘Probably meeting up for a sweet little Saturday date,’_ she thought to herself, turning and retracing her steps back up the block.  She pulled her cell phone from her pocket to look at the time.  The ringer was still off and she ignored the dozen text and call notifications from Phoebe’s phone number.  Her eyes focused on the date below the clock.  October 7.  With a shock she realized it was Arnold’s birthday _.  ‘Oh that’s just fucking perfect!  Not just a date, but a birthday date.  Well fine.  I hope they enjoy each other,’_ she thought, shoving her phone angrily back into her coat pocket.

At the other corner, she turned right and noticed this was the way to the pier.  Perfect.  She often liked sitting on the pier, alone with her thoughts.  She was likely to find perfect solitude there.  The idea of sitting at the end of one of the docks and staring into the dark and murky waters there fitted her mood to a T. 

 

* * *

  

“I have no idea where she is!” Phoebe cried as Arnold joined her on the sidewalk, her high-pitched voice strained.  “I have looked everywhere for her.”

“Well she has to be somewhere.  Are you sure she’s not home?” Arnold asked her, concerned at how upset Phoebe was.

“I’m positive she was home when I went there earlier.  Her mother said she wasn’t, but I could tell she was not being honest.  I just have no idea why she is avoiding me.  She would not answer the phone last night.  She is not answering her cell phone or any of the texts I am sending.”

“It will be alright Phoebe,” he assured her.  “You know how she can be.”

“I know, but she has never done this to ME, Arnold.  You do not understand.  Helga has always relied on me.  She has never pushed me away.  That worries me more than anything.  And of all times now, when I have something so wonderful to tell her.”

Arnold smiled down at the smaller girl.  “You don’t have to tell her Phoebe.  It’s ok.”

“Oh but I want to Arnold!”

He just shook his head.  “I’ve thought it over.  I think it should come from me.  I appreciate you wanting to help, but it really should be me.”

Phoebe agreed, but still, she had been looking forward to telling the sweet little secret Arnold had told her.

“Where haven’t we looked?” Arnold asked.

Phoebe thought it over.  There was nowhere they hadn’t looked.  She lifted her hands helplessly.

“Where does Helga go when she needs to think?” he asked.

Phoebe’s expression brightened.  “The docks!”

 

 

* * *

 

That’s where the pair found her, sitting at the end of one of the piers.  Phoebe and Arnold looked at each other briefly before starting down the wooden dock.  He was surprised when Phoebe put a hand in front of him to stop him.

“She is crying,” she whispered, frowning.  “I just saw her wipe at her eyes; and she is not wearing her hair ribbon.  Something is really wrong, Arnold.  Wait here, I need to talk to her.”

He looked down at Phoebe, his eyes narrowed, wondering what the significance of the hair ribbon was.  However, he silently nodded.

Phoebe left him and walked up the pier toward Helga, who didn’t hear her approach.  Helga was so caught up in her misery that she was aware of nothing but the cold wind pushing against the hot tears rolling down her cheeks. 

“Helga?”

Phoebe’s voice startled her so much that she nearly pitched forward into the water.  “Phoebe!” she yelled, her hand pressed against her chest and her hammering heart.  She turned her glance sharply at her best friend, who stood uncertainly next to her. 

“Helga, I have been looking everywhere for you!” Phoebe said, sitting down next to Helga and dangling her legs over the edge of the pier.  Her voice and expression mirrored her anxiety.

“Why?” Helga asked bluntly, her tone irritated.

Though Phoebe was used to Helga’s ways, Helga never directed any harshness at Phoebe, so it gave the girl pause for a moment.  “I did not see you at all yesterday at school.  You did not come to lunch.  I could not find you after school either.  I was so worried.  Then you did not answer my calls or my texts.  Helga what is wrong?  What did I do?”

“I don’t have to tell you that, Phoebe,” Helga snapped at her.

Phoebe was thoroughly confused now.  She could not imagine why Helga was treating her like this, though Helga indicated it was something that Phoebe should be aware of.  Phoebe glanced over her shoulder and noticed that Arnold was drifting toward them, apparently not planning to obey Phoebe’s wish that he wait until she could talk to her friend.

“I am sure you do Helga,” she responded, her own tone becoming hard.  “I do not know anything I could have done to make you mad at me.”

“Ha!” Helga exclaimed, though with no trace of humor.  Her hands gripped the edge of the pier as she shot a dark glance at Phoebe.  “Honestly Phoebe?  Nothing comes to mind?  I saw you yesterday!” she spat out.

“Saw me?” Phoebe asked blankly.

“Yes!  Saw you!  Sitting with Arnold,” she growled through clenched teeth.  “I saw you laughing together, sitting close, TOUCHING him, looking into each other’s eyes.  I saw him waiting at your locker for you.”  She closed her eyes and turned her head away.  In a tone that was not angry, but sad, she added.  “You know how I feel about him.”

Phoebe was startled.  Her eyes lifted up and caught Arnold’s, who had stolen up so quietly behind them that Helga obviously didn’t know he was there.  His eyebrows had raised.

“Helga!” she protested.  “You cannot think…”

Apparently, Helga hadn’t heard her, as she continued, her now open eyes staring down at the water.  “I thought you liked Gerald,” she said, reaching up to brush a hand at her cheek. 

“Helga I do!”

“I mean, come on Phoebe, I know I have NO chance with Arnold, but I never thought you’d do this to me.  You’re my best friend.”

“Helga!” Phoebe exclaimed, grabbing her friend by the arm and shaking it a little.  “Do you think Arnold and I like each other?”

Helga didn’t answer.

“Helga!  You have got it all wrong!” she cried, glancing up quickly at Arnold again, who now wore his little half-smile.  Phoebe also felt a crazy desire to laugh at this ridiculousness.  “Arnold doesn’t like me!”

“Well I do, but only as a friend,” Arnold finally spoke up.

Helga shrieked when she heard his voice.  Luckily Phoebe still had a hold of her arm, or she really would have fallen into the water.  She stared up at him, who had been standing behind her.  For how long?  She was mortified.  Did he hear what she said?  She turned away, back towards the water and thought about jumping in and drowning herself.  What an idiot she was.

“Phoebe, can I talk to Helga alone?” Arnold asked.

Phoebe nodded, ignoring the pleading look Helga shot at her.  She smiled at her best friend, squeezing her arm reassuringly.  “Call me later,” she said, releasing Helga’s arm and standing up.

When Phoebe had reached the beginning of the pier, Arnold sat down next to Helga, whose whole posture had changed.  She sat up straight, her hands clenched tightly in her lap, staring straight ahead.  She could have been a statue were it not for the scarlet blush on her cheeks and the darting movements of her eyes.

Arnold didn’t speak for a few minutes, and as each second passed, the urge to flee grew in Helga.  She was wishing she were anywhere on earth other than this spot right here. 

“I’m sorry you got the wrong impression,” he finally said.

She didn’t answer. 

“I can explain everything.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“Yes I do,” he said, then paused, looking at her.  “Where’s your pink hair ribbon?” he asked.

The question confused her and seemed so out of place.  “What?”

“I don’t remember ever really seeing you without it,” he said.  “Three times I do.  That dinner at Chez Paris, the April Fool’s Dance, and in San Lorenzo…”

Helga had no idea how to respond to that.  _‘He remembers all that?’_

Arnold didn’t wait for an answer, just shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.  “I always liked your pink ribbon,” he mentioned.  “You don’t seem like you without it.”

She finally made a vague noise, a cross between a grunt and a laugh.  She looked down at her hands, which were clasped together so tightly her knuckles were turning white.  A movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention and she turned her head slightly to see Arnold pulling his hand from his hoodie pocket.  He was holding a rather worn and stained pink ribbon.

With a shock, she realized it was the ribbon she had bandaged him with in the jungle years ago.  Arnold still had it?

“I could never bear to part with it,” he said softly, now running it through the fingers of both hands before tucking it safely back into his pocket.  Her mind was completely blank.  “I can at least explain why you thought I was at Phoebe’s locker yesterday.  You do realize, it is close to yours.”

When she didn’t respond, he leaned away from her in order to dig into his jeans pocket.  “I couldn’t remember which number locker was yours.  Phoebe told me, but I couldn’t remember if it was 689 or 698.”  He pulled a folded up piece of paper out of his pocket and held it out to her.  “I was going to slip this into yours.”

Helga glanced down at the folded note that he held out for her.  With shaking hands, she took it from him, but didn’t look at him.

“Then you ran away before I could give it to you.”

“What is it?”

“Read it.”

She hesitated for a brief moment, then unfolded the paper, turning it right side up.

_My dearest Helga,_

_I don’t really know how to approach you.  You are such an enigma and have haunted my dreams for so long that I’m actually frightened of you.  I see you in the halls every day, passing by like the wind, not acknowledging my existence.  Or our past.  Not a day goes by where I don’t think about those kisses, first as my Juliet, second on the beach, third at FTi and fourth in San Lorenzo.  Each one sweeter to me than the last._

_I don’t know what changed.  I thought you liked me.  You told me once you loved me.  I know, Helga, that wasn’t heat of the moment.  Neither was San Lorenzo.  I didn’t kiss you out of gratitude.  I kissed you because I wanted to; had wanted to kiss you again ever since that morning at FTi.  I hoped you understood that I needed to stay with my parents, but you never wrote to me.  I assumed you had forgotten me – that I was mistaken, and that you didn’t like me.  When I returned, it seemed that I was right.  You ignored me._

_I can’t ignore you, though, Helga.  I can’t ignore how I feel about you and the fact that I never stopped thinking about you.  I’ve tried to work up the courage to talk to you, but I keep chickening out, especially since it seems you don’t want to talk to me.  I need to tell you how I feel, though.  If you don’t feel the same, I will deal with it.  If you do, if you still feel the way you to me you did that morning so long ago, it would make my happiness complete._

_Love,  
Arnold_

Helga’s heart was racing.  She read quickly through the note again.  Was this for real?  Her hands dropped into her lap, still clutching the paper.  Still, she said nothing as her mind was blank.

“I know it’s not exactly eloquent,” Arnold said after the silence had grown to be too much for him.  “I’m not a great writer like I know you are…”

_‘How does he know that?’_

“…but it is heartfelt, and honest.  I did leave one thing out, though.”

She slowly turned her head and finally met his eyes.  He stared into her blue eyes, amazed at how beautiful they were.  He was encouraged too, at what he saw there.  Fear, yes, and uncertainty; but he could also see that she had told the truth at FTi, and that nothing had changed for her.

“What?” she asked faintly.

“I love you,” he answered simply.

Her eyes widened and she looked surprised, an adorable expression on her.  Arnold smiled his half grin at her and slowly leaned closer.  His kiss was as sweet as she remembered, and as hesitant as before.  She realized that his only experience was with her, as hers was only with him.  They were older now, though, and innocent 10- and 11-year-old kisses were different from 16-year-old kisses.  She wrapped her arms around his neck, one hand still clutching his note.  He happily responded, holding her around the waist and deepening the kiss to match the remembered intensity that morning on the roof of the FTi building. 

Phoebe, watching from the other end of the pier, clasped her hands at her chest and spun around happily in a circle.  After her little celebration dance, she skipped home, giving Helga and Arnold their privacy.


End file.
